


The Green Witch and Wizardry.

by HH_Holloway



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Anxiety Attacks, Celtic Mythology & Folklore, F/F, Gay Parents, Gen, Green Witchcraft, Hogwarts, Lesbian Moms, Lesbian Parents, Mental Health Issues, Muggle-born, Muggle/Wizard Relations, Paganism, WitchTok, Witchcraft, green witch, witchcraft and wizardry
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-11
Updated: 2020-12-11
Packaged: 2021-03-10 19:34:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,392
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28012482
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HH_Holloway/pseuds/HH_Holloway
Summary: Before an owl delivered a wax-sealed envelope to her Doncaster home in June, exceptionally bright fourteen-year-old Rhiannon had been practising the same branch of traditional Celtic Paganism as her mothers. Homeschooling for the sake of her mental health, she was rapidly making up for the time she lost in her recovery. Breezing through her exams, content in her craft and working part-time at her parent's in-house apothecary. Finally, life had seemed to click in place.She now has the opportunity to do something extraordinary with her education. She isn't sure her recovery can cope with the pressure of a full-time boarding school away from the safety of home, alongside studying for her upcoming A-Levels. Will hard work and determination be enough to ensure success at the illusive Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, or will her sneaking anxiety have her crumble again?She thinks she might be able to do both, but she doesn't realise that her fantasy school has its own set of occupational hazards.
Relationships: Loving supportive gay moms
Kudos: 2





	The Green Witch and Wizardry.

Rhiannon’s spacious room was made tiny by its characteristic clutter. Soft fuzzy blankets hung lopsided over her bed, the headboard of the bed and the cushioned armchair she primarily used at her work desk. Posters of alternative bands and brightly dyed tapestries adorned the walls leaving very little of the sky blue of her childhood bedroom underneath. Teacups, soup bowls, pickle jars now served as plant pots and the leafy growth was creeping up her vanity table. She kept lavender at her bedside. Sunflowers at their tallest, their pots were on the floor, but their flowers were tall enough to provide shade to the rosemary sprouts on the window sill. Laundry sat in two uncoordinated heaps in labelled boxes next to the open door. When the room wasn’t being lit by the sun dancing through the colourful glass light catchers that hung in clusters, Rhiannon lit her room with hundreds of tiny twinkling string lights.

Her barely organised bookshelf housed just as many trinkets, knick-knacks, spell jars as it did books. Its shade protected the shrubbery that sprung from it. Three shelves were reserved for books, arranged to keep her studies separate. one for her school books, history, psychology, English maths and science. Another for her downtime books, poetry, classical and young adult literature. The third shelf down held her Celtic study books, magical books. Books on sigils and candle magic, herbalism and tarot cards. Some of them had been worn and torn, bent at the edges before she ever owned them. They were gifted to her straight out of her mother's collection.

Feeling at home had been a rare occurrence for Rhiannon recently, the last ten weeks she had been enrolled at a boarding school rife with oddities and horrors. She had been missing the gentle scent of burning mugwort and her mothers cooking. She had missed the comfort of her eccentric home, how it contained her eccentric family. Her mothers had promised her the last time she left home after the half-term break it would be easier next time. She lay on her luxurious bed looking up at the ceiling of dancing lights and realised she was experiencing the familiar wash of dread and heartbreak as she did four weeks ago. She could feel the hot tears that streamed down her face welling up in her ears. She barely cared, all she could focus on was how this was her last night at home before she went back to that icy stone castle. Rhiannon thought about classes that made no sense and how the terrible teachers and the lunchtime where she ate alone as usual when in rushed a panic-stricken teacher screaming about a troll n the school grounds before promptly collapsing to the ground. The recalled how the school dining space had immediately transformed the buzz of excited students to a wash of fear that Rhiannon, barely able to understand what a troll is, caught her herself in a moment of free-falling dispair.

As soon as she noticed the thumping of her heartbeat she realised that she could not make it stop. She sat up and focused her eyes on a single twinkling light, trying to focus instead on steadying her breathing. All she could focus on, however, was how all those children broke down, held one another, filled the great hall with shrill cries of terror. She could not catch her breath any more. The quickened beating of her heart thumped in her aching temples. She remembered being sent back to her shared bedroom filled with all those other girls. She barely knew even one of them. They were in jitters, huddled together, pacing, no idea what was going on. At that moment, she did not want to go back. She was sure beyond logic that she could have a heart attack and die right now. From the bathroom, she heard her brother rifling around. She called out.

“Alfie!”

“One minute, I’m pissing.” was the reply.

“MUM!” she screamed louder.

She heard the clattering of pots being put down in the kitchen and followed her mother with her ears through the living room and up every stair while she cried. Her mother appeared in the doorway and reached for the drawer where her daughter kept her medication.

“I’ve had it. ” Rhiannon said through spluttered pants.

Lisa shut the drawer and turned all of her attention to her daughter. She took a large, exaggerated breath inwards, motioning for her daughter to copy.

“In for seven hold for seven,” She reminded Rhiannon before modelling the technique they learned together months ago.

Rhiannon gulped a harsh gasp down before choking and coughing it up again, her sobs had her trembling through her breaths, tears and snot streaming.

“Oh, Christ.” was the voice of her brother from the doorway.

Lisa turned to him and snapped her fingers to shoo away her unhelpful son “fuck off and get a loo roll.” She turned back to her daughter with her soothing voice “shhh its okay.” she encouraged “try again in for seven, hold for seven.”

Rhiannon brought her knees up to her chest, resting her feet on the edge of the mattress.

“no, no” Lisa gently brought her daughters knees down “Open body, remember.”

Just as Lisa had coached Rhiannon through her first successful 'in for seven out for seven', Alfie appeared in the doorway with a full loo roll and a packet of baby wipes. Lisa thanked him with a kiss on the forehead and went back to coaching Rhiannon. They heard the sound of the boiler clink and the water running in the bathroom.

Rhiannon forced the air into her restricted lungs till eventually, they returned to inflating with ease. It felt like a long time, but eventually, Rhiannon had settled the wrathful waves and was left only with the shoreline breathing and her tear streamed shaking. She was listening to the running water, watching the light shifting, stroking the fluffy blanket underneath her. She folded herself out of her close hug with her mother and stood up.

“Are you okay now love?” Lisa asked.

Rhiannon nodded the affirmative although she was still pale and puffy-eyed. She scrambled on her dresser for a bubblegum, an unconventional remedy that she swore helped.

Lisa sat with her on the bed for a while. They were quiet, Lisa with her arm around her daughters’ shoulders, Rhiannon chomping down on the synthetic sour candy.

Alfie reappeared in her white doorway.

“Bath is ready. The um… herbs, they’re on the side.”

Rhiannon thanked him weakly. “How long till dinner?” she asked Lisa.

“I’ll get your mother to simmer it as long as you need, darling.”

Rhiannon smiled weakly and collected her towel and a fresh pair of pyjamas.

____  
By the time Rhiannon had lit the soothing candles and prepared her bath basket with her toiletries and book she felt the effects of the warm light and the billowing steam. She thought when Alfie had told her the herbs were on the side that he had selected a few and laid them out for her to use. She could barely see the bathwater for all the glass jars Alfie had stacked on the rim of the bathtub. It seems he had just moved the contents of the bath botanicals from their dedicated cupboard to the edge of the bathtub. He tried, bless him, but her brothers approach with magic was chaotic and messy, an artful skill when honed, in this case, it was yet to be honed.

Rhiannon selected the few jars she wanted and sprinkled them in with intention before putting the others away. She took a moment to consider how this was the magic she felt most at home in. Witchcraft, botany, self-care melding together to make something tangible. She had spent her life learning and practising. She knew how to project her intention, had always studied herbology, was mastering her shadow work, her divination skills had come leaps and bounds when the owl arrived… She shook the memory out of her head and took the matches to the incense cauldron her mother kept beside the bath. Rhiannon had a simple approach to magic. A rosemary salt blend she added to all of her evening baths, a sprinkle of dried chamomile flower to soothe her anxiety and some thyme for psychic cleansing. The moment she was submerged, she felt the gentle healing effects of the intention in the infused water. She considered if this was the magic she liked best.

_________  
The kitchen in the Wells-Farrington household was utilised and beloved by every member of the family. It was where the snacks we kept and the treats were right after they had finished baking. It was everyone’s kitchen. In a greater sense, it was Juniper’s kitchen. She cooked in it the most, and she organised it the way she liked it. Juniper was a caring woman, a loving wife, a wonderful woman, but in the kitchen, it was always her rules.

The kitchen was always the warmest room in the house, and it was large with all of the space utilised. Stacked high pots in cupboards, their lids often mismatched for convenience sake. Utensils dangled by pegs or sat clumped together in drawers or jars. They were organised not by set or by type, but by how often she used them. The dishwasher was mainly a storage space. It always smelled like slow cooking herbs or freshly baked treats in Juniper’s kitchen. For dinner that night it was pasta, the sauce was simmering in a soup pot on the stove, lid ajar.

The moment Juniper heard Lisa come through turned to look at her, spoon in hand.

“Is she okay now?”

Lisa nodded “It was a big one though.”

Juniper sighed and sat at the kitchen table. “Do you think…?”

“… That it’s been getting bad again?” Lisa sat opposite Juniper at the small table.

“Yes, I do,” Juniper answered.

“I think so too.” Lisa took her wife’s hand in hers. “It’s a new school- ” she started.

“Just as bad as the old school.” Juniper finished.

“We don’t know that.”

“But we know about the troll.”

“yes.” Lisa massaged her forehead “The troll.”

There was a heavy silence. A lull in a conversation so full and so heavy, neither parent knew what to say next. They both knew what the other was thinking. Their daughter had been coping fine, flourishing even, since they had decided to homeschool. Had Hogwarts ruined in 10 weeks what endless doctors and medications and counselling come to repair, or was their daughter simply experiencing the new school anxiety they had been warned about by the professionals?

Rhiannon hadn’t been to a brick and mortar school for over a year. A stint of vicious bullying and a parade of unwilling, unhelpful and unkind teachers had exasperated an issue that had grown till it was bigger than her. Her parents did what they could to keep her enrolled but after one too many sleepless nights with Rhiannon anxious beyond being able to function, followed by yet another pointless conversation with a faculty member. She had spent more and more time off school to the point that Lisa and Juniper had already taken the role as homeschoolers when they decided that it was best to not re-enrol their daughter for year 8.

Since the change, Rhiannon had been doing much better. Her school workload grew with her, as she slowly felt she could cope with more and more. She was burning through her school materials faster than any standard secondary school could keep up. On track to complete her A levels before her peers had even begun them. When the letter arrived, posted through the door by a white owl, they were apprehensive, as any good parents would be. Rhiannon had been content in the homeschooling curriculum. She did her magical studies with Juniper, took her history lessons from Lisa and worked through her standardised schooling alone. They encouraged their daughter to join social groups, meet other kids her age, but Rhiannon had had enough of kids her age at her last school. The bullying had been terrible. Nobody could blame her for being so withdrawn.

They would have never considered sending Rhiannon back to school. Their experience had been too traumatising for everyone involved, but this new opportunity wasn’t a conventional school. Juniper and Lisa contacted the faculty at Hogwarts, they were eager to share the details of Rhiannon’s proposed education. There was a whole department for special educational needs that would be responsible for keeping documents and informing Rhiannon's class teachers of her reasonable adjustments. The school was eager to impress, and their track record was impressive. They discussed between themselves, with their daughter, even mentioned to her therapist the possibility of enrolling at an elite private school in London. Everyone seemed to think that Rhiannon would probably benefit from being challenged academically, surrounded by children her age who had the same ambitions and preoccupations as her.

It was less than a full term later, the attitude had changed and now everyone was concerned. The family had endured the long stretches of their daughter being away from home. For weeks they had been taking their daughter’s phone calls. She would relay her week in floods of tears. The school operated a segregated house system and it made Rhiannon was afraid of the bullying starting up again. In a dormitory of 5 girls, she struggled to find her footing. In her final phone call before Christmas break, there was an unbelievable story of trolls lurking in the school dungeons. Her mothers were ready to call her home immediately when her head of house called the home phone. She was fumbling over her words about how the troll situation was sorted by a trio of twelve-year-old students and was no longer cause for concern. Today their child was home and the entire family was experiencing the familiar ordeal of their child’s sickness that they thought were largely behind them. Rhiannon's doctor had warned that an increase in anxiety would be normal going into a new school, but this school was far beyond normal.

Finally, it was Lisa who broke the stretching silence. “What does she want to do?”

“I don’t know,” Juniper replied. “We can encourage her.”

“I don’t know” Lisa sighed “Is it bad, or is she anxious?”

“She wasn’t anxious when she was with us.”

“She didn’t do anything when she was with us.” Lisa followed “She revised at home, painting at home, drawing at home, working at home.”

“It’s not good for her.” Juniper agreed.

“But neither is the anxiety. I was just with her, it came back full swing June.”

At the conversational pause, Rhiannon stepped into the doorway. She was rosy-cheeked from her bath and pyjama clad.

“You look better.” Said Lisa “Feel better?”

Rhiannon nodded her head yes “hungry though.”

“It’s spaghetti” Juniper chimed in. “With the sauce you like.”

“I can smell it.” Rhiannon grinned, “I’ll get Alfie.” she dashed up the stairs smirking.

“Don’t torture him!” Juniper called from the living room.

“I won’t” Rhiannon called back before a crash was heard through the house.

“kids.” Lisa nudged Juniper with an elbow.

“kids.” Juniper agreed with a kiss.

The next morning Juniper hovered in her daughter's bedroom watching her pack. None of the anxiety of last night was visible on her daughter, she packed pyjamas and toothbrush steadily. She always felt that her daughters school clothes were a little archaic, even cartoonish. The cloaks and the pointy hats. All of it seemed like a work of fantasy compared to Junipers own experience of magic.

Juniper silently considered how empty her house felt when her daughter was away. She had truly been thrilled with their quarter term breaks with her daughter back at the house. They had cooked and read together and chattered about her daughter's complex new studies. The thought of the empty halls without Rhiannon homemade Juniper feel sad.

Juniper knew her daughter better than she knew herself, she anticipated Rhiannon would struggle to make friends in her weird new school. Rhiannon liked space, she spent long periods quietly studying in her own company and she enjoyed it. Juniper knew that her daughter would struggle to have to share a dormitory with four other girls. She knew that Rhiannon was ecstatic about her brand new school curriculum. She adored learning new things, and this shrouded study of ancient alchemy and bubbling potions had her daughter more excited than her mother had ever seen her. She couldn't be prouder of her exceptionally bright child, she watched her daughter pack her archaic robes into her posh new school suitcase and wondered if her daughter was doing okay when she was away.

“We use mugwort to make things shrink in potions.”

… “Hmm…?”Juniper barely caught the end of the sentence she was so caught up in her own thoughts “mugwort for shrinking?”

Rhiannon nodded and checked back at her suitcase. “it turns bright green if you do it right” she added with delight “but it’s poisonous if not. That’s why only advanced students are allowed to make it.”

“Oh right.” Juniper said, perplexed “do you think you’ll be making it one day?”

“I’m making it this week.” Rhiannon beamed. “As well as some introductory flying lessons.”

“Flying lessons?”

“I’ve been practising” Rhiannon stated before extending her open palm towards the Bluebottle her parents had bought her weeks after she enrolled at the school. It was a 2014 series that had been used by a budding Quiddich player and sold to Juniper and Lisa by the boy's parents on the Hogwarts online parents Hub.

Rhiannon had initially gone to school with the family broom that was built by her mother a year prior. Juniper hadn’t realised that in the Wizarding world a broom was a commodity like a bike or a car. She also hadn’t expected that the broom would be used for flying. In her own practice the witches broom was a tool used for cleansing the space.

The broom gently nudged itself away from the wall it was propped against and shuffled into her daughter's grip. Her daughter had been performing magic all her life, but since she began attending Juniper had witnessed Rhiannon perform these increasingly purposeful acts of magic with such control and intention that she was always amazed.

“so they just teach you that?” Juniper asked in awe.

“It’s common sense” Rhiannon replied. “intention plus action… easy. I didn’t learn any inner working stuff at school yet, I just do what I know.”

“So the folk magic comes in handy at school?”

“It comes in handy everywhere.” Rhiannon grinned. She paused her packing and turned to her mother. “I bet mum told you about the wand she bought me?”

Juniper nodded and smiled as her daughter lit up with joy. "she told me about the wizard money too"

“It’s so cool. I can do so much with it.” Rhiannon was gesturing with excitement. “I can like, turn lights on and off and make stuff float. Ah, it’s so fucking cool.”

“language”

“sorry. But it is so cool mum, I’ll have to show you when I’m 18.”

“When you’re 18?” Juniper asked, “Why not bring it home for the next half term?”

“not allowed,” Rhiannon responded. “The school keeps it when you’re back home.”

“Shame” Juniper replied, “It sounds pretty cool.”

“so cool… “ Rhiannon trailed off “I do miss you when I’m away.”

“I know you do poppet. We miss you too.”Juniper’s eyes filling with tears was enough to have her daughter crying too. “stop it!” she shushed as she brought her daughter in for a hug “your make up.”

Rhiannon wiped the tears away carefully to avoid smudging. “I love you.”

“I love you too. You’d tell me if you weren’t happy, wouldn’t you Rhi?”

Rhiannon nodded. “It’s proper freaky there, but the classes are so good. Next year’s classes are even better.”

For months Rhiannon had been safe at home, and Juniper knew her daughter would lie to spare her mothers feelings, but she believed the light in her daughter.

“come on, what’s your first lesson back then?”

“Intro to Wizard history and then flight”

“Flight?”

“I’m learning how to fly mum!”

Somehow Juniper knew before her daughter had told her.  
_____

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to anyone who thought to read this.
> 
> I got some creative ideas from all over the place, but please let me know if you like the concept, any ideas you want me to explore and anything you as an audience would like to see me change.
> 
> I am a practising Green Witch myself, and I really wanted to write a story for the HP fandom that was inclusive of that, as well as hidden disabilities and LGBT relationships. I thought that the crossover between muggle and fantasy witchcraft could be very interesting as a concept. 
> 
> Thanks so much.  
> Yours, HH Holloway.


End file.
